


getting warmer

by aelisheva



Series: Purimgifts Fics 2021 [5]
Category: Spinning Silver - Naomi Novik
Genre: Character Study, Collection: Purimgifts Extras, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Huddling For Warmth, POV Female Character, Post-Canon, Sharing a Bed, rated teen for some Implied Stuff at the end but that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29703915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelisheva/pseuds/aelisheva
Summary: After what they've been through with Chernobog, or perhaps because of it, Irina and Mirnatius have both developed a fear of fireplaces. This isn't very helpful on cold winter nights in the palace.
Relationships: Irina/Mirnatius (Spinning Silver)
Series: Purimgifts Fics 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105415
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6
Collections: Purimgifts 2021





	getting warmer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chestnut_filly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chestnut_filly/gifts).



> chag purim sameach! i hope you enjoy this treat. this ship is criminally underrated and has so much potential in terms of "enemies to allies to lovers." this fic was also very fun to write. enjoy <3

“When did the nights start getting so _cold?_ ” I pulled the furs and blankets around my side of the bed a little closer.

My husband turned on his side to blink at me. “When it started to be winter again, my dear,” he drawled.

“Ugh. You know what I mean. Usually there’s never this much snow or wind outside our door.”

“This palace is _old,_ Irina,” he replied, half of his face smushed into a pillow. “What you’re hearing might just be the creaking and shifting of old bricks and stones.”

“My father’s home had plenty of old bricks and stones too, you know.”

“Hm,” he replied into the pillow.

“But maybe it wasn’t so bad because Magreta would try to counteract it with plenty of blankets, and tea or soup freshly made. And right around dinnertime we’d light up our fi --” I froze, mouth suddenly dry, fingers suddenly gripping the edge of the sheets. “O-our fireplace.”

Mirnatius looked up from the pillow. “Fireplace?”

“Yes, and…” I let out a shaky breath. “Forgive me if I don’t call for a servant to turn on ours tonight. We can’t risk it growing a face and threatening to devour my soul.”

My husband let out a slow sigh. “Would it surprise you to know I’ve been thinking that exact thought for the past few months?”

“It does make sense...”

“I _know_ he’s dead, I _know_ you killed him but -- but part of me still fears he’ll come back. Come back for _me._ ” His voice cracked from new threatening tears. “I spent my _entire life_ under his control until you helped me exorcise him. I never want to hurt anyone again, hurt _you_ again, just because _he_ wants me to. Of course I understand!"

Now _I_ was crying. “Thank you _so_ so much for understanding --” I pulled the two of us into a hug. “I thought I was being ridiculous for worrying about that.”

“Only as odd as I am, love,” he replied. “And don’t worry, I will _never_ let him hurt you again.”

“And I’ll never let him hurt _you_ again.”

We stayed there like that, embracing each other, for a quiet little while. It was wonderful to just rest and not have to worry about any upcoming danger. Well, any upcoming danger that wasn’t tomorrow’s quarterly meeting with the parliament. Now what were we going to discuss there again….?

Suddenly, my husband turned his mouth towards the crook of my neck. “You’ve gone still," he hummed, "What are you thinking about?”

“Oh nothing,” I replied, running my hands through his curls. “Just that we’ve found a very nice substitute for fireplaces here.”

“Agreed,” he sighed. “But….if you’re up for it, there’s an even _better_ way to generate heat.”

I scoffed. “Of _course_ I’d be up for that,” I said, leaning back from him. “But we have that quarterly meeting with the _parliament_ tomorrow morning? What if we’re, uh, visibly tired out?”

“Well..." He leaned forward and swept around a loose strand of my hair. (And I tried _not_ to let my cheeks get hot, as per usual.) "If they ask, let’s just say that we were doing our best efforts to produce an heir.”

"Hmm." I thought it over, putting a finger to my chin...then over and down the chest of his open white shirt. I could already feel his chest starting to pound under my touch -- as per usual.

“That’ll work," I finally answered. To be truthful, I really wasn’t sure if it would -- but I was just _so_ anxious to drag him down under the blankets.

[Image Description: Picture of an ornate bedroom fit for a palace. The wallpaper, gilded lounge chair, and bedside table are all the same deep red color. Gilded light fixtures hang from the walls. The gilded canopy bed has a deep red blanket, and red and white pillows. A large white chandelier hangs from the ceiling. End ID.]


End file.
